


Under the Weather

by GuileandGall



Series: Violaceous Fury [3]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Cold Weather, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Illness, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feeling a little under the weather, Furia was hoping to spend the cold rainy day hiding from the world and bundled up in her warmest coat. But both the weather and Dexter Jackson seem dead set on ruining her plans. After an hour spent sloshing through mud and battling bullets as well as rain, Furia finds herself up against another obstacle to her sanity and good sense—Troy Bradshaw and his chivalry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Weather

**Author's Note:**

> This question fill was prompted by SaintsEmpressJae (*kisses*). Usual disclaimers apply.

**Under the Weather**

_22\. What are they like when they get sick? Do they have a particular system (ears, lungs, etc) that illness gravitates to?_

  
****-1-** **

* * *

The staccato pitter-pattering of the rain rang off the concrete in the graveyard. Troy pulled his jacket collar up against the biting chill of the wind that accompanied the cold precipitation.  _At least it's not fucking snowing yet_ , he thought as he pulled his lighter out of his pocket and lit a cigarette. The deep cough drew his attention toward splashing footsteps. Out of habit, his hand went to the pistol in his belt until he caught a glimpse of the person hurrying into the courtyard.

The purple boots she always wore would have given Furia away to anyone, except that they looked like they were soaked through, and were now almost black from the rain.

"Hey mamacita, nice coat," Dex said with a laugh from a few steps behind Troy.

Bradshaw could understand Dex's enjoyment of the sight, she looked huge in the massive puffy black coat, the hood of which was at least as thick as her head and lined with a grayish fur. She looked like she just walked off a mountain top, except that, instead of snow, raindrops slicked off and soaked into the fabric of her coat. Her dark jeans did not really show quite how soaked through they might be, but if her boots were any indication, it was possible that she was colder than him.

"Fuck you, it's damn well freezing out here," Furia snapped. "Goddamn rain." Her sneeze just made Dex laugh anew.

Troy eyed her for a moment; she usually did not get that short with people. She looked tired-the hint of dark circles below her eyes seemed magnified by a paleness to her usually caramel complexion, but he thought that might just be due to the temperature.

"Come on," Dex ordered. "I think I have something that will help warm you up."

Her eyes met Troy's as she passed him. Her cough echoed off the stone of the foyer as she crossed into the church.

"Troy!" Dex's voice seemed to carry more clearly in the cold. "You coming?"

"Yeah!"

The church was no warmer inside than it was outside in the thick of the weather. Even the few little fires in metal drums didn't seem able to combat the combination of the wind and the icy rain. When he walked into the little alcove Dex had claimed as his base of operations, Furia still had her hands stuffed in her pockets and she seemed to be marching in place, trying to fight off the chill.

During the little briefing Dex had prepared about the strike he wanted to run on the Carnales' stronghold over on Fox Drive, Troy's attention was split between the information and the sniffling, shivering woman.

"And surprise, surprise, one of my boys says they've got some fools with rifles on the roof," Dex added to his detailed explanation after checking a text he just received.

This pulled Troy's attention away from Furia again. "They are really going all out for this place."

"Which is why we need to hit it now."

"We need Johnny," Furia said, looking at the pictures of the old plant.

"Not going to happen," Dex said. "He's running something for Julius."

"Memo's a decent shot," Troy opined, turning his attention to the young woman opposite him.

Furia glared at Bradshaw. "Memo's good, but he's not that good. I'm not even that good." Furia pulled several of the pictures toward the center of the table. "I mean look at this. From what Dex's boys are saying we're looking at a large crew outside and probably at least one, maybe more, crews inside. How many did they peg outside?"

Dex just stared at her a little bit in shock at the way she was taking over his operation, but then Troy was a little surprised as well. He had seen her planning and adjusting on the fly, but Bradshaw had never seen her do something like this.  _And to do it to Dex of all people_. He watched both of them carefully. She was thinking it out, looked like she might actually be playing the whole thing out in her head. Dex just looked constipated and a little more than pissed off.

"Twenty-two on the ground, six on the roofs," Dex said coolly.

"Yeah, no way Memo can drop six men in six shots. And that is what we are going to need if we are going to get anywhere near that building without getting shot the hell up. Ideally we need Johnny and one more." She chewed at the inside of her lip as she stared at the pages. "I know I can scrounge up one guy with the bones to back someone up. But I don't know anyone else that hot on a rifle."

"Who do we have that can make the shot?" Dex asked Troy, who just shrugged in return.

Furia pulled her phone out of her coat pocket. "Hey Mikey. I need you to put hands on two rifles and someone who can make a long shot." She paced along the wall as she listened. "I need a solid shooter not someone who might be able to do it. Yeah, this is imperative. You don't know one of our boys? He's not aligned, right?" With that question she looked over at the two lieutenants.

Troy eyed Dex. To his way of thinking this was Jackson's show. If someone was brought in it would be Dex's call and Dex's recommendation. Bradshaw shrugged in response to the unspoken question floating.

"If he gets it done, we'll bring him in," Jackson said with slight note of irritation.

"Tell your cousin this is his one shot at the big time and to not fuck it up." Furia snapped her phone closed and returned to the table. "Mikey D's got a cousin that can shoot like him. Got to love country boys," she said disinterestedly. "So that handles that little problem. And I think the three of us can handle it."

"Take Troy with you. Another solid gun. And it means you'll be completely covered when you plant these," Dex explained, setting the bag on the table carefully.

Furia whistled sharply when she hooked a finger on zipper and peeked in the bag. "That's some high quality work. Who the hell did this?"

"Does it matter?" Dex replied with a sharp bite in his tone. The look in his eye suggested her question was unwelcome.

Furia seemed as surprised by Jackson's reaction to the question as Troy was. And it prompted the undercover cop to make his own inspection of the explosives. Her quick assessment was dead on. These were not the improvised explosives he would have expected the Saints to put their hands on and it made him extremely curious about Dex's sources, too.

"Guess not," the bundled-up beauty noted, her eyes scrutinizing Jackson for a moment. She zipped the bag. "Meet you out front."

The last statement was directed at Troy, whose departure was halted by Jackson's hand on his arm.

Dex leaned toward Troy as she exited. "Keep an eye on her. Julius wants to know how she handles things."

"That one can handle herself," Troy replied. He and Julius had both seen that first hand early on. She was a crack shot, almost too fearless, and she was decent at strategy.

"Yeah, well. All the same."

"Fine. Suit yourself. But if you don't trust her, why bring her in on this?"

The sharp look Dex gave him answered it.  _Julius._ Troy could tell that Furia put Dex on edge. Hell, she kind of put Bradshaw on edge as well, though he was fairly certain the reasons for those similar reactions were on different ends of the spectrum.

The boss had plans for Furia, and no one knew what those plans might entail expect Julius Little. He was putting a lot of responsibility on the young woman as well, and at first it did not sit well with any of the Saints Lieutenants; at least until she proved herself. Then all of them, except Dex, had been perfectly content to work with her. Hell, Johnny sought her out. Lin preferred to have her working the Rollerz and hated having to share her. Troy could not balk at her assistance either-she was smart, capable, and determined. But for some reason Dexter Jackson did not like her.

  
****-2-** **

* * *

"Hey Peaches! Keys!" Furia called across the room. The strawberry blond tossed a ring with a little stuffed peach dangling from it to the black-clad female.

"Try to bring it back in one piece this time."

"I paid for the damages, didn't I?" Furia replied with a smirk. "Plus, the bullet holes weren't my fault. Damn Rollerz can't shoot for shit."

The entire room fell into laughter, but it subsided when Troy walked in. She glanced over her shoulder at him. Johnny could enter a room virtually unnoticed but Bradshaw and Dex could kill a room. Furia knew why. Gat just did not seem like someone who was in charge; he was just one of the boys. The other two, and Julius, maintained a certain amount of separation.

_Which is precisely what you need to maintain_ , a little voice in the back of her head scolded, as she admired the tall chestnut-haired man a little longer than she should have. With a deep breath, Furia eyed the fuzzy peach key chain in her hand before she turned her gaze back to the young woman sitting on an old beat up sofa with two other young women. "Try to stay warm."

"Just don't fuck up my new paint job. It is  _so_  cherry," Peaches cooed with an ecstatic look in her eye.

"Sure thing, mujer," Furia replied then pointed toward the door behind the women. "Out front?"

When Peaches nodded, the taller woman strolled past the threesome near the entrance. Troy followed her. Furia unlocked the passenger door of the iridescent purple SUV with the pair of peaches dangling from the rearview mirror. She could not help but chuckle and shake her head.  _You can always find Peaches' ride_.

"You feel up to driving?" she asked Troy as he stopped at the top of the steps, eying the clouds that were still just dousing the city with rain.

"Sure." He seemed a little surprised at the question. Of course, it was rare that Furia gave up control of anything, especially a vehicle. She tossed the keys over to him and climbed into the truck. "Where are we meeting your boys?" he asked when he climbed into the driver's seat.

"Harrowgate, corner of tenth and Park."

Furia could feel the headache coming on and the stiffness in her neck was not helping it at all. She just hoped that spending the day in this rain would not make the ick worse. It felt like a cold, but she could never really be sure. She just hoped that whatever it was would be quick and not linger.

She pushed her hood back, running her hand through her damp hair with the realization that her coat had soaked up at least as much water as it had sloughed off. She quickly plaited her hair into a loose braid. She was going to need it out of her face for this. A part of her also wished she had worn a coat that was less bulky and not quite so absorbent. There was no way she would be wearing that damn thing on this little excursion, which meant she was just bound to get colder and wetter. She had not expected Dex's call when she left that morning, when she felt the cold coming on she had been hoping just to be able to hide out for the day. But that was never how things seemed to work out for her.

"You know I think this is a first for me?" Troy said after several minutes of silence.

"What's that?" Furia replied.

"Not sure I've ever driven a vehicle with balls bigger than mine." His eyes flitted to the ornaments dangling from the mirror.

The rather large fuzzy flesh-colored peaches dangling from the mirror really did look like a set of over-sized testicles, and she could not help but laugh to find that she was not the only person with that particular take. Sadly, the laughter pushed her into a coughing fit that doubled her over in the passenger seat.

Troy's hand on her back made her stiffen. "You feeling all right?" The genuine concern in his voice made the tension all the more palpable.

She caught her breath and he removed his hand as she sat up. "I've been better. But I'm good. I keep telling Peaches that, but she just thinks I have a dirty mind."

He looked at her in that way she liked a little too much. With just a touch of smolder in his sharp eyes and one eyebrow cocked just so. Such a simple gesture should not distract her so much.

Thankfully his eyes returned to the road and she relaxed back against her seat again, feeling more than a just foolish. As they neared the intersection she had directed him to, she leaned up once again, scanning cars on both sides of the street. The little black coupe at the end of the block was still running. The heat from the exhaust billowed like smoke from the back of the vehicle.

She leaned toward the driver's side, pointing out the car. "Pull in front of that car up there. That's Mikey's."

With a glance Furia realized how easily she had taken too much liberty. Her hand was on his shoulder and she was practically on the center console as she leaned too close to him. While she might have done exactly the same thing with anyone else, with Troy simple things took on a very different charge. Thankfully she was able to distract herself from him and her obstinate attraction to him when Mikey D and his cousin Mike Holland climbed into the vehicle.

  
****-3-** **

* * *

Before they had arrived at the plant on Fox Drive, Furia's coat had been pretty much soaked through and after their extended stint in the rain trying to get through the Carnales guards then even longer setting the last explosives on the roof, not even her socks were dry. She felt like she had taken a cold shower in the freezer. Though she had left the coat in the vehicle it had only gotten colder and it was little reprieve from the violent chills, and the truck's heater seemed to be blowing cold air from outside rather than warm air. Or at least that was how it felt to her as she shivered almost uncontrollably in the passenger seat.

The country boys had borrowed a little red coupe in order to help draw off anyone interested in what happened there. And as Troy pointed the SUV northward, she fished her cell phone out of her pocket. To be honest she was surprised it still worked.

Dex answered on the first ring. "It's done?"

"In flames. We took out their guards and the reinforcements they sent." She turned in the seat and looked behind them. "And it looks like we got away clean. Not sure about the Mikes though, they split off. "

"Good call. And good work. How'd the guy do?"

"Four guys, four shots. Worked a door with me. Solid under fire. Crack shot. We could use another shooter. So I'd give him the nod."

"I'll consider it. You should get in out of the rain. I can hear your teeth chattering from here," Dex stated with a laugh.

"¡Chingate!" she said evenly then hung up the phone.

Dropping the phone in the console, her hand went to her forehead as she muttered, "¿Por qué está tan perra?" She knew Troy had no idea what she had said and she really did not want him to. Furia was not certain how close any of the people in positions of power in the gang were with one another, but she was not about to start insulting Dex in front of any of them, at least not if they could understand what she was saying.

"That good?"

She glanced over at him from under her hand. "He's just being his usual charming self."

"He really rubs you the wrong way, doesn't he?"

"Most people rub me the wrong way."

"I don't know you get along well enough with most of the crew and Johnny and Lin," Troy noted.

She dropped her hand and tensed her body against the shivering again. "Because they give me a job and trust me to get it done. Dex micromanages everything and will stand over you every step of the way if he can. In fact I'm surprised he sent you on this little outing."

"Probably figured after your greeting at the church that the wrong word might get him shot."

Furia laughed lightly, her teeth chattering again. "Just might have." It was then that she realized they were not headed toward the church. "How hard did that guy hit you?" she asked, referring to a guy that had caught Troy off guard and cracked him in the ribs with a bat. "You forget how to get back to the church?"

"Not going to the church," he replied as he pulled into a parking lot.

"Come on, man," she griped and her voice shook with another shiver. "I'm fucking freezing here."

Troy threw the truck into park and leaned on the wheel, looking at her. "I'm well aware. Come on."

"¡Hijo de puta!" she grumbled as she pushed the door open.

"Careful. That one I do know," he said with a big smile.

"That a challenge for me to find one you don't?"

Troy laughed. "I don't think it would be a challenge worthy of you," he chided. "Just trust me. Come on." She followed him into the building and to the elevator. After he opened the door of the apartment, he pushed her through the door. "Shower's in the bedroom. I'm sure I can find you something dry that will work short term."

Furia stopped dead as the door closed behind her. "This is your place?" It was the only thing that came to her mind which seemed dulled by the cold and situation.

"Yeah, figured the fact I had a key might give it away, he said as he pulled his own soaked jacket off. It was followed by the long sleeve rugby shirt that was equally as drenched. "Of the choices, it was the closest. The church would have been ten more minutes. Your place about, what, twenty beyond that?"

Her eyes were glued to the way his wet white t-shirt clung to him, accentuating the shape and tone in the muscles of his upper body. Troy Bradshaw was not a big man, but he seemed to take care of himself. Her preoccupation was just another blatant reminder of the million and three reasons she should not be standing where she was at that very moment. His argument was logical but another thirty minutes of shivering seemed preferable to being in Troy Bradshaw's apartment, in his clothes. The implications made her head spin, but the fact that the idea intrigued the hell out of her just made her head pound even harder.

When he grabbed her by the coat and dragged the zipper down, Furia looked up at his face, then diverted her eyes. Finding staring at his chest just as distracting, she closed her eyes and shook her head. Once he tugged her coat off her, she seemed to regain some of her senses and took a step back.

"You're soaked to the damn bone," Troy argued, his eyes locked on hers. He reached out and grabbed her by the waistband pulling her back toward him. Her hands gripped his upper arms loosely. "You're going to end up with pneumonia or some shit."

The continued lack of response on her part seemed to frustrate him. "You can go on your own or I'll drag you in there myself," he threatened. The concern was clear in his tone and in his eyes. The innocent reasoning that seemed to fuel his threat made it even harder to ignore.

Furia was more than surprised by his concern and just how adamant he was that she just take the assistance offered and suck up what he had to think was stubbornness or pride. He would have no way to know that the reason she was still rooted to that spot was because there was a very willful part of herself she was trying to rope back into submission.

Her logical mind knew he was right, she had been cold and wet for far too long, and needed to get warm. But it was that same part that knew just how easy it would be for her to sprint, jump, or tumble way past the line of good sense with little more some borrowed clothes between them.

His patience reached its maximum, she realized, when he thumbed the button on her jeans loose. Then the zipper of her jeans fell, she shivered when the backs of his fingertips grazed her bare stomach. As her mind recovered, Furia was fully aware that shiver had absolutely nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with him.

"Fine," she acquiesced as her eyes searched his for a moment. "Fine." Furia let go of his arms and took a step back from him.

She muttered to herself in Spanish as she finally crossed the room. This little excursus and her reactions to Troy in this confined space clarified for her the fact that she really needed to find some way to place more palpable distance between the two of them. But she also could not deny the fact that there was a part of her that would have been very happy to have him toss her over his shoulder and carry her into his bedroom to bring her body temperature back up.

  
****-4-** **

* * *

Bradshaw swallowed hard as he watched her disappear into the bedroom. He leaned against the wall and ran a hand through his damp hair relieved by the increase in distance between them. He could not decide what it was about her. He had seen beautiful women before and still managed to keep his wits about him. But something about Furia made him want to forego the rational.

_Like bringing her home?_  He truly had chosen this stop with innocent intentions. At least they were innocent until she looked at him with that softness that made his heart pound against his ribcage.

The echoing thud repeated as he tapped his head against the wall again. "What the hell were you thinking?" he mumbled, looking at the ceiling.  _Threatening to drag her back there. Then…_  "Fuck. Not smart, Troy. In fact about as stupid a choice as you could possibly make."

Julius had some sort of vested interest in Furia and her brother. He had known their father's family, and apparently that was why Jules had been so quick to induct both of them.  _Yeah, even ignoring every other reason to stay away from that woman. Messing with the boss' special interest could go incredibly wrong._

Though he tried to ignore that part of his mind, there was a section that did not give a fuck about all the reasons not to. Furia intrigued him, enticed him. He found himself almost hypersensitive to her, her presence, her moods; it was like he could read her so easily one moment and then the next she was incomprehensible, and Troy was just too tempted to try and unravel the enigma. There was something about her, something all her own that made her irresistible.

The conflict in his head continued after the water started. He crossed the small apartment and opened the bedroom door carefully. Once satisfied the bathroom door was closed, and that she was beyond it, he quickly grabbed a pair of sweatpants, a hoodie, and a pair of socks, all of which he left on the bed. A basket near the closet had clean clothes he had not had the chance to put away yet, and he grabbed a towel and a change of clothes for himself.

He lightly tapped on the door. "There's dry clothes on the bed for you, and there should be towels in the closet in there."

"Thanks," she said.

He burned through three cigarettes while she was in his shower, but the coffee pot still had not finished its cycle. Elbows leaning on his knees, he stared at the dizzy pattern of the brown and cream shag carpeting left over from the seventies; when he took the last drag he sat up and tamped it out in the ashtray near him. The bedroom door opened and his eyes darted to the woman wearing a shockingly sheepish expression.

Troy had figured sweats would be the best bet, though he knew there was likely nothing in his apartment that would even come close to fitting her. The paleness was gone; Furia seemed to have a little more color. Her long black wavy hair was still damp and just a touch wild, paired with the sweet look on her face-it was too damned desirable.

"Sorry. I was kind of a bitch," she said in a voice what was quiet and sincerely apologetic.

Rubbing his palms down his thighs, Troy stood. "Don't worry about it. Coffee?"

"Sure."

Not expecting her to follow him into the little kitchen, he stopped and turned to find himself face-to-face with those hypnotic eyes blinking up at him brimming with warmth.  _Jesus Christ._ He took a step back. "How do you take it?"

"Cream," Furia said slowly and quietly, "and sugar."

Troy could feel the tension in his jaw.

"Do you have any Tylenol or something like that?"

"Medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Should be on the top shelf."

She nodded and retreated, much to his relief.

"Three sugars?" he called, leaning against the counter trying to regain his composure.

"Yeah. That should be fine."

He set the mugs on the table as she returned to the room. The wet clothes dropped onto the coat, which lay where it fell when he had tugged it off her. When she turned back toward him he thought he could see the conflict in her eyes, as she were having the same type of argument with herself that he was having. Though he did not presume to think his interest was anything more than completely one-sided on his part.

"I should probably…" Furia said uncertainly, thumbing at the door.

"Yeah." Troy stood, but walked into the bedroom and came back out with a proper coat for rain. He shook the long black trench once and held it for her to slip her arms into.

When he reached around her waist to grab the belt, she tensed and he froze. As he looked down at her, his heartbeat was so loud in his own ears he was all but certain she could hear it too. After an excruciatingly long moment he pulled away slightly and tucked the coat around her, tying the belt snugly.

"Keys?" he said patting his hips then he looked over his shoulder. "Ah, ha."

"I'll get these back to you," she promised as she tied up her clothes into a little bundle with her soaked coat before slipping her feet into her boots.

"Don't worry about it," he said with a shrug as he dangled the peach at her.

Furia took a step toward him and her intense gaze met his. If he did not know better, he would have thought she was trying to tempt him, although if he were honest with himself, she did not have to try to do that very thing. Her hand closed around the fuzzy fruit and Bradshaw released the metal ring. The rush of cold air from the hallway hit him in the face as she walked out of his apartment. Troy pressed his hands then his forehead against the door, as regret strangled him.


End file.
